


Breaking the Stereotype

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [65]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armpit Kink, Barebacking, Body Worship, Bottom Derek Hale, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Gentle Sex, Hairy Derek Hale, Insecure Derek Hale, M/M, Making Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 19:57:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: Stiles has been looking forward to having sex with Derek since their first date, to Derek filling him up with his dick. When it's finally time for them to do the deed, though, Derek throws a curveball at him. In the end, he can't say he minds.





	Breaking the Stereotype

**Author's Note:**

> This got unexpectedly saccharine toward the end, so enjoy the rotting teeth. :)

Stiles has been waiting for this for a long time. He's been dating Derek Hale for a few weeks now, and they've been on six dates in that time. All of them went well, and before they left the restaurant they ate at earlier, they finally agreed that they were an official, exclusive item. There was a tension in the air between them at the end of that discussion, so tangible that even the waitress sensed it when she came to deliver the bill to their table, her lips curling up into a knowing smirk that she couldn't quite hide. The cause was unspoken but obvious:

Now that they're official, it's time to finally seal the deal.

Stiles stumbles after Derek into Derek's loft, their lips locked and their hands clutching at each other's clothes. He's desperate for them to get naked and on Derek's bed so that the older man can fuck him.

"Can't believe we're finally doing this," Stiles rasps in between kisses, pawing at the hem of Derek's long-sleeved maroon henley.

"Me neither," Derek says, raising his arms.

Stiles pulls the henley off and gets his hands on Derek's bare torso as their lips slam together again. He feels him up, running his hands over Derek's hirsute chest and catching his pinky fingers on Derek's nipples. This elicits a delicious whimper from the bearded man, so Stiles repeats the action a couple more times before lowering his hands to unbuckle Derek's belt. He keeps speaking in between their kisses, telling Derek about how much he's wanted this ever since they met each other the previous month, how much his ass has ached to be filled by Derek's big cock.

It's as Stiles says those last words that he feels Derek tense up. He pulls back, concerned, his hands at a standstill on Derek's belt. His concern only grows as he takes in the apprehension in his new lover's unfairly handsome features.

Stiles drops his hands to his sides. "What's wrong?"

"It's…it's nothing," Derek replies, his voice too unsure for it to be the truth. Stiles reads him easily.

"Don't lie. Tell me what's wrong. Do you not wanna do this?" Even though Stiles would be disappointed, he doesn't let it show. "That's totally fine. We can just cuddle or something."

"No, it's not that…" Derek says, bowing his head. He looks embarrassed about something, and Stiles wishes he knew what it was so he could make it better.

"Then what is it?" Stiles cups Derek's cheek and strokes his thumb across Derek's cheekbone. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Derek nods stiffly. "Yeah. I trust you."

"Then tell me. It's just us here."

Derek hesitates for a few seconds longer, wrestling with something, and then he speaks again. "It's just…I don't really want this to go the way you just said you were expecting," he says quietly.

It's odd. Stiles has never witnessed Derek acting so shy before. He didn't even think the older man was capable of it, to be honest. Derek is usually so confident, and while not the most demonstrative of people, he's generally visibly happy if you know what to look for—and Stiles does now, after spending far too long appraising every minute change in Derek's countenance on their first two dates. Thinking about it briefly, he decides that he rather likes it. If only the reason for the shyness was something positive instead of negative, like Stiles gets the impression is the case this evening.

He asks another question, feeling like a broken record. "What d'you mean?"

"I don't really…" Derek worries at his bottom lip. "I don't really want to…top."

The last word comes out so quietly that Stiles almost doesn't hear it. He does, but it still takes him a moment to process it.

"Y-you don't?" he stammers, shocked to his core.

Derek shakes his head, dislodging Stiles' hand from his cheek. He averts his gaze, seeming resigned about something. "No."

Stiles wants to make sure he understands absolutely. "You'd prefer to bottom, then? Just tonight or…?"

The question is unfinished, but Derek answers it anyway. "I don't really like topping in general," he says, as if it's something to be ashamed about.

Stiles blinks a few times as the shock passes. Once it has, he admits to himself that he never would've anticipated the turn the evening has taken. He never would've thought that a man like Derek, so tall and muscular, would have the preferences he does. That's probably a bad thing. Stiles chastises himself for thinking such stupid thoughts and swiftly gets on board. "Okay," he says.

Derek peers at him from beneath his eyelashes, his eyes full of confusion. "Okay?"

"Yeah." Stiles shrugs. "I don't have a problem with that. To be honest, the thought of tapping your bubble butt is damn hot."

Derek seems amazed now, regarding Stiles as if he's a unicorn. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"It's just…I wasn't expecting you to be so accepting."

"Why not?" Stiles frowns. "It's no big deal."

"If you knew some of the reactions I've gotten from other guys in the past, you wouldn't say that," Derek grumbles.

Realisation dawns.

_That explains it,_ Stiles thinks. That's why Derek seemed so apprehensive about telling him his preferences in bed.

Other guys must have berated Derek for it, maybe even told him he was wrong for having the desires he has. Fuck…Stiles himself was almost one of them, having bought into the stereotype that the taller, more muscular guy would top without even realising it. Contemplating it more closely, how could he not? It's a ubiquitous message in the gay community, and any guys who don't fit the mould are looked down upon—especially the more 'masculine' guys who love having dicks up their asses. Some people are adamant that those who have such desires are lesser men, which is such crap.

"Well, they're all idiots," Stiles opines, his jaw clenched because he abhors the idea of someone making Derek feel bad about himself.

"You really think so?" Derek sounds so hopeful. He raises his head properly again, some of his shame washing away.

Stiles nods. He takes Derek's face in his hands and plants a heartfelt kiss on his lips to help get across how sincere he is. "I do," he confirms. "I don't care if you never feel like topping me."

"But—"

"Nope! It's a done deal," Stiles interrupts his lover, pulling him into his arms this time. He rubs his hands up and down Derek's bare back and tries not to get distracted by the play of muscle beneath the tanned skin. Derek goes rigid momentarily but then relaxes and sinks into the embrace, resting his chin on Stiles' broad shoulder.

"If, at some point in the future, you _do_ wanna tap this ass," Stiles continues, "then hell yeah, go right ahead. But if that day never comes and the only way we ever do things in bed is me fucking you, I have absolutely no problem with that. D'you feel this?" Stiles grinds his erection against the crotch of Derek's jeans, behind which the bearded man's softened cock takes an interest again.

"Y-yeah," Derek answers.

"That's proof of what just _thinking_ about getting inside you does to me. Okay?"

Derek takes a shuddering breath and pulls back just far enough for them to see each other's faces again. "Okay. I believe you."

Stiles is immensely relieved. "So…d'you still wanna do this? We can hold off until next time."

Most of the negative emotions have vanished from Derek's expression now, but he still looks insanely vulnerable. In spite of this, he gives Stiles a small smile and a nod, putting his trust in him. Stiles treasures his trust and would never intentionally do anything to betray it. He'll take care of Derek tonight and make sure he knows that there's nothing wrong with a man like him wanting to get fucked instead of being the one to do the fucking.

The mood has changed drastically from what it was when they first entered the loft. Whereas before it was heated and intense, now it's quiet and more intimate. In keeping with this, Stiles slowly walks Derek backward while sharing more kisses, tender ones this time. The loft is comprised of a single capacious room, so it's not difficult to find the king-size bed tucked into one corner, partially hidden behind a white screen partition. He backs Derek up against it and places his hands on Derek's chest, pushing him backward so that he falls atop the mattress with a soft _whump_.

"Let's get these off next," Stiles says, resuming his endeavour to remove Derek's belt.

He drops it to the floor and then crouches down so that he can take off Derek's shoes and socks. The sight of Derek's bare feet peeking out of the hems of his jeans is both cute and hot. His toenails are cut into short, neat curves and the toes themselves are dusted with dark hairs. Stiles has never been a foot person, never judged but never quite understood it, but he gets the feeling that Derek will quickly turn him into one, at least where Derek himself is concerned. Everything he's learned about the older man—and every part of his body he's seen—threatens to destroy Stiles, chokes him with an emotion it's far too early to give words to.

Shaking himself, Stiles reaches for the button of Derek's jeans and pops it through the placket. After undoing the zipper, he pulls down Derek's jeans and black boxer-briefs in one go. They join Derek's belt on the floor, and then Stiles stands up at his full height and stares down at the completely naked man.

Stiles has never seen anyone so beautiful. There's no comparison.

"_Fuck_, look at you," he says reverently, unable to decide where to look.

Derek rolls his eyes to play off the compliment, but his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn pink, revealing how much he really likes it.

"You should get more comfortable," Stiles suggests, pointing to the pillows at the head of the bed.

Derek takes this suggestion and runs with it, shuffling backward until his head is resting on the pillows. He tucks a hand behind his head and waits.

Stiles should join him, strip off his own clothes and get on with the show, but he can't help himself. He just stands there and takes in his boyfriend, wondering how the hell he ever got so lucky.

He starts at Derek's feet. He still thinks they're nice even without the jeans. Further up, Derek's legs are thick and hairy, his thighs powerful enough that he could probably crush Stiles between them if he wanted to. Stiles gets onto the bed in front of Derek and insinuates himself between the other's legs, forcing him to spread them apart slightly. He runs his hands up the length of them and back down again, enjoying the way the hairs tickle his palms. When he gets down to Derek's ankles, he wraps his hand around one of them and picks it up, bringing Derek's foot close to his face.

"Stiles?" Derek says unsurely, the hand not tucked behind his head fisting in the sheets.

"Shh, just relax," Stiles says, meeting Derek's gaze. "I'm gonna worship every inch of you before I fill you up with my cock."

Derek groans and his eyelids flutter. "Fuck."

"That's the idea."

Beginning the worship, Stiles presses his lips to the arch of Derek's foot and runs his lips up the curve until he reaches Derek's toes. He sucks the big one into his mouth, swirls his tongue around it and ponders the taste. The skin is slightly salty because Derek's feet spent a few hours trapped in his socks and shoes during their date, but it's not especially unclean. Stiles doesn't mind it and moves on to suck on the other four toes, giving each of them their turn. Derek moans, his wariness apparently gone. Stiles is glad because he has no intention of stopping, licking a wide stripe up the side of Derek's foot before transferring his attention of its twin.

He repeats the whole process there and then sets it back down atop the sheets. He lowers his head with it and kisses a path up the insides of Derek's legs. When he reaches Derek's crotch, he resists temptation and bypasses it entirely. He'll get there, but first he'd like to put his mouth to every other part of Derek's body that's currently presented to him.

Stiles dips his tongue into Derek's navel and then moves to straddle his thighs so he can reach Derek's chest.

And what a chest it is.

Derek's pecs are both gloriously big and covered in a field of dark hair. Stiles runs his fingers through it to find out if it's as soft as it looks and grins when he finds that it is.

Next, he makes sure he has Derek's attention and takes both of his nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. They're perfectly sized. Stiles doesn't want to body shame anyone, but to him, some guys' nipples are so small that they might as well not be there. He finds it hotter when a guy has nipples like Derek's, big enough to get a good suckle going—in his eyes, they're perfect, just like the rest of him.

Stiles gives Derek's nipples a twist and relishes the way the man tips his head back and his mouth drops open. He makes a high-pitched whining sound that Stiles has never heard him make before. It goes straight to his cock, still imprisoned in the confines of his chinos. It aches with need, but he doesn't stop what he's doing to pull it out.

This is about making Derek feel good.

Stiles plays with Derek's nipples for a couple minutes, twisting and pinching them to find out what other sounds he can get Derek to make. He isn't disappointed. When he switches things up, leaning down and sucking on one of the hard nubs, Derek ceases make noises altogether. His breathing is slightly laboured and his face is flushed, and his mouth is wide open in a soundless moan. He has his hand out from behind his head now, but he's left it flung above him, gripping the headboard tightly enough that the wood creaks and threatens to splinter.

Stiles suspects that it's been a while since Derek has been touched like this. From what Derek said earlier, most of the other guys Derek has dated turned tail and ran the second they found out he wouldn't top them, so it makes sense. It saddens Stiles to think about, but it also strengthens his resolve to make this as good for his boyfriend as he possibly can. It's like he's attempting to make up for all the times Derek has missed out in the past, to shower him with all the affection he can so that Derek never again feels like there's something wrong with him. If Stiles has his way, he won't.

He'll be Stiles' for a long time, possibly forever, and Stiles will treat him right.

Finishing with Derek's nipples, Stiles noses further up and places yet more kisses across the man's hirsute chest. He nuzzles beneath Derek's chin and nips at his neck, aiming to mark up the column of flesh so that Derek will see reminders of this night for days to come whenever he catches his reflection in a mirror. Derek's stubble scrapes across his forehead but he doesn't care. In fact, he rather likes the slight burn of it and stays there for a bit longer than intended, sucking an extra hickey on the left side of Derek's neck before moving on.

Derek's bicep bulges obscenely because of his tight grip on the headboard. Stiles squeezes it in his hand and feels a frisson of excitement at the sheer strength there.

After that, he finds his attention drawn to the tufts of dark hair in Derek's exposed armpit. Like with feet, Stiles has never really given much thought to armpits; with everyone else, they've just been a part of a person's body, but right here, right now, Stiles finds Derek's armpit indescribably sexy. It's got the perfect amount of hair, and he can't resist sticking his nose right in it and inhaling deeply, breathing in the musky scent that's firmly embedded in those hairs. The musk carries a trace of chemicals from Derek's deodorant, but the strongest smell is all Derek, just one more thing that's perfect. Stiles rubs his face in Derek's pit for a minute, making sure that the delectable scent soaks into his pores, and then he licks over the hair a few times to taste it too. He's the one to moan now.

"Damn, you smell so good," Stiles rasps, shoving Derek's other arm above his head too so that he can get at his other armpit.

"R-really?" Derek enquires breathily. He has perspiration on his brow.

"Yeah. You've gotta let me get my hands on you when you're finished at the gym or something. I bet that's even better."

Stiles shudders as the image appears in his head. Derek will get home all hot and sweaty from a rigorous workout, and Stiles will do to him exactly what he's doing right now.

Shit.

Done with this part of his worship of Derek's body, Stiles captures Derek's mouth in a fierce kiss, sharing Derek's own taste with him. The man doesn't seem fazed by it at all but kisses him back just as passionately.

When they both have to come up for air, Stiles moves backward again and concentrates on the part of Derek's body he'd neglected earlier.

"Big boy, aren't you?" Stiles notes, wrapping his hand around Derek's thick cock and giving it a few strokes.

If Stiles had to guess, he'd say that Derek is between eight and nine inches long. He's uncut too, a contrast to himself. He's fascinated by the way Derek's foreskin repeatedly peels back from the head on every downstroke, and how it gathers and gets all wrinkled on the upstroke, concealing the head entirely. Stiles sticks the index finger of his other hand in the folds and circles it within, rubbing the pad over the spongey head. Drool gathers in his mouth as he watches his finger stretch out the loose skin. It's arousing as hell.

Below Derek's cock, his balls are big and hairy, just like the rest of him. Stiles weighs them in the hand not still stroking Derek's cock and is amazed by their heft.

They must be positively full of come.

A short while later, just as pre-come is dripping down Derek's shaft, Stiles releases him and moves further back so that he's not touching his lover at all.

"Turn over," he instructs, giving Derek a reassuring smile. "I'm gonna worship that ass with my tongue, then stretch you out for my cock. Finally give you what you want."

Derek inhales sharply before he complies, flipping over onto his front with an amount of grace that makes Stiles jealous. But he's not jealous for long, because in the next second he's distracted by the sight of Derek's bare ass cheeks. He'd known that Derek's ass was plump before, especially given that Derek has a penchant for wearing tight clothes. But seeing it bared? That's another thing entirely.

Derek's cheeks are generously curved. They're muscular but, as Stiles discovers gleefully when he cups his palms around them, they still have a slight give to them. The flesh jiggles sexily when he manipulates it.

"Yeah, I can for sure spend forever worshipping this ass and never get tired of it," he says, just for Derek's benefit.

Stiles spreads Derek's cheeks apart and licks his lips as he stares at the tight little hole he just revealed. The furled skin is surrounded by dark hairs, looking so tasty that he dives in without any more preamble. He licks over Derek's hole with unfettered eagerness, groaning quietly to himself as the taste of it hits him. Derek's musky here too, the scent of his ass filling his nostrils. Like his pits, it's not unclean at all, but it's not exactly squeaky-clean either because it's been a few hours since Derek washed himself in preparation for their date tonight.

For a long time, Stiles alternates between lapping over Derek's rim and wiggling the tip of his tongue against it, coaxing it to open up for him. His efforts pay off after a while, Derek's hole loosening enough for Stiles to slip just a bit of his tongue inside, getting a preview of how hot and tight he is. He's persistent, his desire ramped up so high by this progress that he doesn't stop, not even when his jaw hurts. Eventually, Derek's hole relaxes enough for Stiles to get more of his tongue inside, tasting Derek's inner walls. He seals his lips around the rim and sucks, satisfaction burning in his chest when it elicits the same whining sound he got from playing with Derek's nipples. He could hear that sound for the rest of his life and die a very happy man.

_Maybe,_ he muses before shutting that train of thought down again.

Too soon.

When his jaw becomes too sore to ignore, Stiles gives Derek's hole one last lick before he reluctantly sits back and his eyes alight on Derek's nightstand.

"Is your lube in there?" he asks, pointing to the top drawer.

Derek's voice is hoarse when he responds, and he can't seem to muster enough wherewithal to get out more than a simple, "Uh-huh."

Stiles would be lying if he claimed he wasn't feeling a bit smug about that as he climbs off of the bed and pulls open the top drawer of Derek's nightstand. He locates the tube of lube hidden in there fast enough, but he gets distracted for a few seconds when he also spots an eight-inch dildo next to it. The silicone is skin-coloured with realistic vein details and a circumcised head, and if Stiles didn't know any better, he'd suspect that someone took a cast of his erect cock when he was unaware and made a sex toy out of it. The likeness is just that uncanny.

"You'll have to use that dildo for me sometime," he says as he tosses the lube on the bed and undresses himself.

Derek hums and peers up at him lazily, not moving from his position on the bed. "Mmm…maybe."

Once he's naked as well, Stiles retakes his position behind Derek and pops the cap of the lube. He squirts some out onto his fingers and warms it between them for a few seconds before bringing them to Derek's waiting hole.

"You ready?"

For his answer, Derek arches his back, pushing his ass up like an offering.

"Guess that's a yes," Stiles says with a fond chuckle. Derek's obviously so needy to be filled, and it says something about how he feels for the man that he finds the action adorable instead of slutty.

Not that there'd be anything wrong with it being plainly slutty.

Stiles slides one finger to the hilt inside Derek's body, his cock throbbing as he experiences Derek's heat even better than he had with his tongue. He can already tell how amazing Derek is going to feel around his cock. He'll probably end up coming with embarrassing speed, but no one would blame him.

After thrusting his index finger in and out a few times, Stiles inserts a second one and scissors them apart, stretching Derek out for his cock. The stretch is surprisingly easy, doesn't take long at all. It leads Stiles to suspect that, in spite of the reactions of his previous dates, Derek's ass sees a lot of action—probably only from himself, using the dildo Stiles found a minute ago.

Two fingers become three, and then four as Stiles wedges in his pinky. Then he withdraws all of them and slathers his cock in some fresh lube.

"I'm gonna put my cock in now," he tells Derek, crawling over him so that he can plant one hand on the pillow next to Derek's head.

"Please…" Derek begs, pushing his ass back when Stiles' cock slots between his hairy cheeks.

"Shh, I've got you," Stiles murmurs, kissing his boyfriend's sweaty temple.

With his other hand, Stiles reaches between them, grasps his cock and aims the head at Derek's prepped hole. The first push in is still a bit difficult, given that Stiles is pretty thick, but once the head pops inside, the other seven inches go in with little difficulty, ending with a loud moan from both of them.

While Stiles waits for the go-ahead to move, he drapes himself properly over Derek's back and noses at his cheek. "You okay?"

"Yeah…just gimme a second," Derek replies, his eyes clenched shut.

"Sure thing, baby."

The pet name has Derek's eyes snapping open wide. He turns his head to look at Stiles.

"D'you not like being called that?" Stiles questions, suddenly concerned. It's the first time he's called Derek anything other than his name, but it just felt right.

"No…I do," Derek says bashfully. "Just wasn't expecting it. S'good."

"Good," Stiles echoes, kissing Derek's bristly cheek.

Soon enough, the bearded man clenches experimentally around the girth of Stiles' cock and, when he presumably doesn't feel any pain, he finally tells the younger man he can move.

"Thank God," Stiles gasps, because the wait had been killing him. He'd have waited however long Derek needed, but feeling Derek's tight channel around him but being unable to fuck it? Pure torture.

When Stiles draws back until just the head remains inside, emptying Derek of most of him, Derek makes a sound like he's dying. Stiles can't have his lover feeling empty and unfulfilled, so he thrusts back inside syrupy slow, filling Derek up again. He sets a slow pace, keeping things unhurried and gentle. He's never had the inclination to make sex like this before. With his previous partners, when they fucked each other, it was usually fast and desperate, like a race to see who could get off first. With Derek, though, Stiles feels no such urge. All he wants is to give Derek as much pleasure as he can, to—screw it—_make love_ to him instead of fuck him.

He still won't say it aloud, but there's no harm in conceding to himself what's happening here, right?

On and on it goes. Not once does Stiles speed things up, and the reasons are twofold:

He wants to prolong this for as long as possible.

And it's a good way to prevent an orgasm from racking through him prematurely.

As he makes love to his sweet, sexy, sometimes-insecure boyfriend, Stiles peppers the side of Derek's face with kisses. Not once does he pick himself up from Derek's back, doesn't even consider it. He loves the closeness he feels like this, as every part of their bodies touch and sweat slicks their skin. He's glad that Derek is bigger than him and can take his weight, otherwise he wouldn't be able to do things like this, wouldn't be able to almost feel like he and Derek are one person.

"Stiles…" Derek groans soon, stretching his arms out in front of him and curling his hands back around the headboard.

"Feel good?" Stiles queries, nibbling on his lover's earlobe. He slots his own arms beneath Derek's shoulders, Derek's armpits hot against the insides of his wrists.

Derek's hole clenches up even tighter for a moment, ratcheting the pleasure up to a whole new level. "Yeah. Don't stop," he implores.

"Never," Stiles promises, the closest he can come to spilling the truth from his lips.

Following a subtle change in the angle of Stiles' thrusts, Derek shakes and mewls beneath him. Stiles guesses that he finally found Derek's prostate, so he makes sure that every one of his thrusts is angled the same way from then on.

As Stiles hits his prostate with every other thrust, Derek gets progressively louder and pants so hard he almost sounds like a dog. Sweat drips down his forehead, and Stiles thinks that this state suits Derek to a T. He should always be hot and sweaty and writhing beneath him with pleasure, his ass taking Stiles' cock like he was born for it. Stiles isn't a believer in soulmates or there being one right person for somebody, but what he feels in this moment definitely makes a strong case for it.

Unfortunately, such ecstasy can't be sustained indefinitely, and Stiles feels the familiar tingling in his lower gut—the main symptom of an impending orgasm.

"I'm getting close," he apprises Derek, speeding up his thrusts for the first time. He can't help it, his body moving of its own accord.

"M-me too," Derek moans.

Stiles plans on sliding one of his hands downward, wedging it between Derek's front and the sheets to give him something better to rut against. But he doesn't get the chance. Just as he starts to move, Derek's hole grips him like a vice and he shouts, his whole body tensing up. Stiles doesn't need to ask to know what just happened, and the fact that he could get Derek off essentially without touching him is what does him in too.

With another few thrusts, Stiles' orgasm overcomes him and sinks in to the hilt so that he can fill Derek up with his come, like he's claiming him from the inside out.

When he peaks and comes back down from the high, Stiles slumps boneless atop Derek, unable to roll off of him even if he wanted to. He tucks his face into Derek's neck and just breathes, enjoying the clutch of Derek's come-filled hole and the combined scent of their sex permeating the entire loft. He stays there for an indeterminate amount of time, just drifting, until finally he feels Derek rousing beneath him and supposes he might as well let him up now. With a wince, Stiles peels his sweaty front from Derek's back and shifts over to the side, his soft cock slipping out of Derek's hole.

"That was amazing," he says, lying on his back. He looks at Derek and finds the man already staring at him, still lying on his front. He has his arms folded beneath his cheek now.

"Yeah, it was," Derek agrees, grinning dopily. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I want to. You're the first person that's done that for me in a long time, and it means a lot to me."

Stiles is touched and places a hand on Derek's back, running his fingers along the lines of the triskelion tattoo between Derek's shoulder blades. "Well, get used to it."

"I hope I never do."

Stiles shares the sentiment. What they just did becoming anything other than earth-shattering would be a travesty. "Can I stay the night?" he dares to ask.

Derek's grin relaxes into a subtle upturn of his lips. His hazel eyes shine. "Yeah."

When Derek shuffles over to him and lays his head on his chest, Stiles wraps an arm around him and kisses the top of his head. "Tired?"

Derek yawns as if on cue. "Yeah. You really took it out of me."

Stiles' own eyelids are drooping, so he fidgets a bit to get more comfortable before shutting his eyes. "Sleep well, baby," he whispers.

A few seconds later, Stiles hears the first of Derek's soft snores. The sound soothes him, and just before he follows his lover into dreamland, he has the saccharine thought that he's found his home.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that's been in my head for the past month or so, and it just wouldn't let go. So here we are! I've written scenes with this concept before, but I think it's something that bears repeating. How masculine a man is doesn't necessarily mean he's going to want to top all the time, and the same is true for effeminate men and bottoming. Such beliefs are rooted in a lot of serious things that I don't really want to delve into too deeply here. I'll just say that, to me, there's nothing hotter than a tall, muscular man getting fucked by a big dick and loving it, and that's basically how this PWP was born. I hope you all enjoyed it. :)
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Derek gets turned on by how good Stiles is at being Pack Mom. Top!Derek/bottom!Stiles.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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